


Another Good, Good Night

by Anonymous



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic, Eating, Fluff, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Drift. Rodimus. Ratchet. Three idiots, being hopelessly in love...
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	Another Good, Good Night

Rodimus blinked groggily. In front of him, Megatron and Magnus went back and forth. They droned on and on about this, and that. Rodimus was sure it was important information, but he couldn’t muster up enough willpower to care. So what if the engines were hiccuping? Why did it matter if Brainstorm was seen giggling maniacally with Whirl in Swerve’s bar? Rodimus had a _date_ to get to. 

The thought made Rodimus smile. As soon as his shift was over, he could say _goodbye_ to the Megs and Mags duo, and say _hello_ to a lazy night on the couch with his favorite bots. 

Drift and Ratchet. 

Rodimus’ optics gleamed just thinking about them - hardworking, loyal, and totally hot too! Rodimus was the luckiest mech in the universe, no doubt about it. He sighed wistfully as his processor whirled with memories. Ratchet grumping in concern while checking Rodimus’ injuries after a risky maneuver… Drift’s arms coming up around him and guiding his hands over the hilt of Drift’s most prized sword… Ratchet and Drift, pointing at each other in accusation as Rodimus laughs at them… 

_”Ahem.”_

Rodimus snatched his helm up from where it had dipped onto his fist. He tried to drop the dopey grin from his face. It was to no avail though - Megatron and Magnus continued to stare hard at him - probably cursing their luck and Rodimus’ existence. 

Magnus visibly held back a big exhale and picked up the datapad he was reading from. “I believe it would be in our best interests to… Reconvene at a later date…” 

It was said almost in a questioning manner, but Rodimus knew better. He let the grin brighten back up full force and threw himself out of the chair, and out of the room, with a hasty, “Sounds good, comm me later!” as he transformed and sped down the hall. 

Rodimus skidded and slid from hall-to-hall, going as quick as he dared to get back to his hab. Mechs of indeterminate frame and designation hooted and cheered and occasionally swore as they dodged out of his way. 

Rodimus flashily transformed as he finally reached the hall his hab was in. Breathless, he jogged over, stopped himself from going in long enough to straighten back out and let out a quick, excited exhalation, then entered his code to the door through his comm. It opened automatically and Rodimus darted in. Like a gift, inside sat his mechs. Ratchet and Drift looked up at him from their positions on the floor. The two were surrounded by an assortment of panels, tools, knuts, and bolts. Whatever it was, it seemed more than halfway finished. 

“Welcome back, Roddy,” Drift called, serenely. 

“Yeah, welcome back,” Ratchet grumbled, but kindly. “How about giving us a servo, over here.” 

Rodimus grinned anew as he walked through the wreck towards them. He stepped on a bolt and jumped up in surprise and almost landed on Drift, who chuckled and drew Rodimus down towards him. “We’re almost done,” Drift commented. 

Rodimus took up a tool from the floor and looked back at the… thing. “Yeah! Sure does… What does it do again?” 

Ratchet put his servos over his face. “It’s a table, Rodimus. It holds our things for us. We’ve only been talking about getting this thing for the past three _decacycles_!” 

Rodimus’ intake dropped open in abashed realization while Drift covered his own intake. Clearly smothering laughter, Drift chimed in, “Why don’t you go get the energon ready while Ratty and I finish this up?” 

Rodimus groaned halfheartedly and picked himself off of the floor. Feeling Ratchet and Drift’s gaze on him, he sashayed comically over to the refrigeration unit. Ratchet snorted loudly. “Knew there was a reason we kept him around.” Drift just laughed again, and the metallic tinking began anew. 

Rodimus relaxed as he set up three cubes right next to each other on the counter. He grabbed a big pinch of magnesium and put it into Ratchet’s cube, and poured some lowgrade in - just how Ratchet liked it after work. Then Rodimus took his and Drift’s cube and poured midgrade. He topped off Drift’s cube with a shot of highgrade - to help calm down the restless energy Drift was probably hiding from lazing around all day. Rodimus added a small pinch of cobalt to his own cube. He then garnished all three cubes with ridiculously bendy curly straws and shaved ice. 

Rodimus picked up Ratchet and Drift’s cubes and turned around to find the two of them done making the table. They were in the process of shoving it closer to the center of the room when Rodimus walked up. Ratchet and Drift gave soft smiles and _‘thank you’_ s as they pulled up chairs and sat down. Rodimus fetched his own cube before sitting down right next to Drift. 

Ratchet leaned over Drift and into Rodimus, giving him a small peck on the cheek that he didnt give earlier when Rodimus returned to the hab. “You heard about that slag going down with Whirl, yet?” 

Rodimus hummed noncommittally as Drift also scored a smooch directly onto Rodimus’ cheek, “It was a busy day today! Mags barely had time to read the agenda before the shift was over!” 

Drift and Ratchet shared a _look_ and Ratchet squinted suspiciously, “End of the shift, huh? Could have sworn you came home a little early today…” 

Drift sipped at his energon while Rodimus blubbered and waved his servos around, “What? No! No. I always come back this early -” 

Rodimus was wincing even before Ratchet made a triumphant, “Aha!” He pointed at Rodimus threateningly, “‘Early’ he says - right from the prime’s mouth!” 

“Ratchet, no!” 

“Don’t you, _‘Ratchet, no’_ , me!” Ratchet mock growled back. Drift continued to snicker into his energon as Rodimus and Ratchet leaned into his space, each respectively claiming innocence and idioce as they tried to argue their point. 

Eventually they all finished their energon. They subspaced their empty cubes - each too lazy to wash their cube - and migrated to the couch. Ratchet sat on the left corner and stretched out. Rodimus and Drift took the other side, and they put on a holovid. 

For a while, the room was filled with soft, happily purring engines. As the night wore on, Drift and Rodimus melded closer and closer together. Rodimus’ helm on Drift’s shoulder, and Ratchet’s pedes in their laps. Rodimus petted Ratchet’s pedes sleepily until he grumbled something about a datapad. Drift barely waited for Ratchet to leave the room before dragging himself and Rodimus onto Ratchet’s spot. It was nice and warm, and had the favored dip in the cushioning. Rodimus and Drift settled down fully on their sides onto the warm spot, tangled together, by the time Ratchet came back. He took one look at them, then sat down exactly where he had been before, crushing the two smaller bots under his immense medic weight. Drift and Rodimus yelped and had to half scoot themselves out of the way. They came back in, Drift at Ratchet’s front, and Rodimus between Ratchet and the back of the couch. 

The light dimmed. The datapad slipped from Ratchet’s grip and tumbled quietly to the floor. The three mechs bundled up together on the couch, frames purring, plating nice and warm, and completely at home and in love. 

Datenight was complete...


End file.
